The royal and the maid
by AngelKissesAndLoveBites
Summary: Prince Dimitri Belikov is about to become the king of Russia, taking his fathers place, but first, he must be married, to a princess or a lady. But what if someone already has his heart and is yet to know it? one shot. all human. better than it sounds, promise!


**hey guys, i know it's been ages since I've uploaded anything, but don't fret, i'll be uploading a new story in a couple of days ;P**

**but for now, here's a one shot i wrote for English class [who can believe i have like, six weeks until year 11?! haha] i hope you guys enjoy this one shot *heart* **

**Madii xx**

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_Dimitri._

My father glared at me from across the table, we where stuck in the same argument we've been in for weeks; my impending marriage. I would be turning twenty-five soon, and meant to be taking the throne soon, so I would need a wife.

When I was fifteen, my mother convinced my father to let me find a girl, and to fall in love, but it had came with a condition, the deal would end by my 25th birthday, and well, that was three months away and I was still empty handed.

That left me with two options; one, be sold off the the highest bidder, or two, hold a royal court. Its safe to say I chose the latter.

Once I made that decision, invitations went out, to princesses and the daughters of Lords all around the globe, all except one; the princess of Turkey, as she—along with her mother—had disappeared thirteen years ago.

Much to my dismay, all princesses where the same, carbon copies of each other, like Barbie's, just all painted differently. A collection of gold diggers and social climbers. My eyes carefully scanned the list of names that my father had provided me earlier today, and to my disappointment, I recognized one name on the list.

One would think that it would make me happy to recognize someone, that it would make me more at comfort with the prospect of the court, but not this girl; Natasha Ozera of Norway.

Now, it wasn't that I didn't like Natasha, because we've been best friends since we met at the celebration of the alliance of our two great countries, since Norway had allied with us against the Germans so well in WWII, so nearly fifty years later, the alliance was officially formed. We had been six at the time, and we where both slightly surprised that our fathers hadn't arranged a marriage between us, and yet, I know that she would try to be happy for me no matter who I chose, it would crush her if I didn't choose her, as she had never made the effort to hide her attraction to me, even if I didn't return her feelings.

Mainly because I had already given my heart away, not that she knew it, I had never confided in Natasha about this particular subject, nor had I approached the said girl about my feelings for her, I had been studying her since she had arrived thirteen years ago. I never let my feelings show, as my father would exile her if he found out she was distracting me from my duties, but I honestly couldn't help it, she was the daughter of the head maid here at the palace.

'_God forbid that I marry the help_' I thought to my self bitterly as I watched her from the corner of my eye, she was rearranging my mothers chamomiles in the lavish crystal vase above the fireplace, her slightly shorter than regulation skirt skittering in the breeze.

Although the girl was fulfilling the part of a maid today, she was my younger sister's dress maker, and apparently Viktoria had grown quite fond of her, as now instead of just giving her pictures of dresses and other clothing she wanted made, she had been insisting that she accompanied her to the mall to help her with her outfit decisions.

I guess that having someone close to your own age was comforting, as Viktoria was just a year younger than her, making her eighteen.

My father seemed to realize she was in the room and shooed her away, in quite a way that made me ashamed to be of his offspring.

The princesses where pretty, no one could deny that, although some of them where a bit too excessively made up, they where all stunning, and still, none of them could compare to _her_, she was the epitome of perfection, a shining jewel among other smaller slightly chipped gems.

Conflicted and angered, I stood up and with one final disgruntled glance at my smug looking father, I stormed from the room and towards my quarters.

I heard—and ignored—my mother as she called out to me, although I believe she understood my frustration as she took one look at the papers in my hand and retreated back into the kitchen.

That's one thing I loved about my mother, although we had a crew of the best chef's in Russia, she still insisted on helping them in the kitchen, my father did not approve in his wife partaking in any labor, so she would say that she was simply supervising, to make sure they served only the best for our family, but in truth, she would take over a corner of the large industrial kitchen, and bake and cook for hours, some of it would join us on the table at meals, and the rest she would personally take down to the maids and servants quarters for them to eat.

I smiled as I walked into my quarters and smelt my mothers famous black bread, and the smell of tulips?

I have never been the fondest of tulips, as most of my encounters with them where unpleasant, but this particular smell was cleansing and sweet.

I walked into my bedroom to change into something a bit more comfortable, just as I reached my closet I heard something to my right, whipping around I saw her, she was standing beside my bed, evidently having just finished turning down my bed. She let out a small squeak of fear at being spotted, maids weren't meant to been seen in the quarters and had to have the room finished by the time the resident returned, her brown eyes turned wide almost like a dear caught in headlights.

"I-I'm sorry sir, I didn't know that you would be returning earlier, I shall come back later" I froze at the sound of her voice, it was sweet and innocent, yet sultry at the same time.

I made my way over to her and put my hand on her waist before she reached the door into the living area of my quarters., an electric current running through me at her touch.

"Don't go" I whispered into her ear, "Please don't leave, Rose" I begged, finally speaking her name, the same name I've been wanting to speak for the past thirteen years.

I felt her stiffen against me, "With all due respect, Prince Belikov, but I am not one of your call girls" she turned and glowered at me, shocking my slightly, I was the future king of Russia, no-one spoke to me with disrespect, I liked that she had seemed to forget that and speak her mind.

"I'm not like that" I assured her.

"I doubt that, all you royal guys are the same" she replied scoffing, the shadow of a recent break up dancing in her eyes, it was only there for a moment before she slammed her mask back in place, but I saw it.

I stepped closer and put my had on her hip once more.

"You can trust me, Roza" her façade slipped once again, in reaction to me calling her by her Russian nickname.

"It was Adrian, he weren't together for long, but he didn't know that I wasn't... as experienced as he was, and he made a move on me and I told him no, and the fact that I'm no one of importance, he just told me that I wasn't worth it." her voice broke, sadness evident in her eyes.

"Oh, Roza, you deserve so much better than that" I wrapped her up in a hug and lead her to my living room.

I sat her down with some black bread, tea and a blanket. She whispered her thanks and focused on her tea, staring into the caramel coloured liquid as though it held all of the answers in the world.

We sat like that for a few hours talking, with some coaxing from me, Rose begun to spill out her life story, not leaving out a single detail, but I didn't care, I wanted to know everything about her.

And when I say everything, I mean from ages eight to eighteen, she had gotten in a fight with her mother and stormed off, and that's all she can remember, the doctors said that she had fallen down the palace steps, hitting her head on the banister.

It begun to get dark out side, I knew that Rose would have to go soon, but I didn't want her to leave, it was selfish, I knew how much trouble we could get in if she stayed, but right at this moment, I didn't care.

Her eyes flickered between me, the clock and the door.

"I really have to go now, Comrade" she called me by the nickname she had christened me with less than an hour ago, referring to my 'ludicrous love of westerns'.

She moved closer to me for a moment, I had thought that it was purely to move the blanket off her before rising, but she took me off guard by quickly planting her lips upon my own. I stiffened before pulling her towards me.

After what felt like an eternity, she pulled away as if she had been zapped, touching her lips softly.

"I'm sorry, that was out of line, I'll leave now" her normally tan skin was bright from embarrassment, somewhere amid the kiss, her long hair had fallen from her bun holder, falling in brown waves around her face.

I pulled her back to me and forced my lips to hers.

Pulling away, my feelings for her came spilling out of my mouth in a jumbled mess, how I've watched her walk the gardens using flower petals as colour samples for Viktoria's dresses, she listened with sparkling eyes, her skin still red, but from a blush instead of embarrassment this time.

"I love you too"

"stay with me tonight, please"

"okay."

and that's the last thing we said to each other before falling asleep, with her in my arms.

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**R&R lovelies, don't be scared to tell me what you think!**


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